


I Can't Live Without You

by DawnDust



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Car Accidents, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer too, Episode s07e05 The Sniffles, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Major Character Injury, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, They're both okay eventually
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-18
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:15:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29384718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnDust/pseuds/DawnDust
Summary: David gets into a car accident while he's on the phone with Patrick.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer & Stevie Budd, Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 18
Kudos: 127
Collections: Schitt's Creek Season 7





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * In response to a prompt by Anonymous in the [SCSeason7](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/SCSeason7) collection. 



> **Prompt:** 7x05 - The Sniffles
> 
> David is in a car accident returning from a vendor. Even though David is expected to be fine, the incident scares Patrick considerably. He continues to hover over David and take care of things that David could do. It starts driving him crazy. Maybe they both need some TLC. Patrick does a good job of caring for David, but David also does a good job of caring for Patrick too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I started writing this because I got into a car accident about a year ago that left me with chronic pain at nineteen, and made me terrified of driving. I was originally going to make that the focus of the story, but I couldn't make myself hurt either of them any more than this. Writing this really helped me process some of my feelings, so I hope you get something out of it too!

“It was wonderful to see you, Heather! I can’t wait for your next batch of experimental cheeses.” David smiled and shook Heather’s hand. Despite his typical demeanor with strangers, he really did enjoy interacting with his vendors. He had always been appreciative of good art, and saw the products his vendors made the same way: as specialized, useful pieces of art.

“I can’t wait for you to try them either! You’re probably my most appreciative taste tester, so I always get a nice ego boost when you sample my food.” David laughed. Heather was also one of his favorite vendors. She made amazing food, and didn’t hold it against him at all when Ted left her for Alexis. Which he would not have blamed her for at all.

“I’ll see you next month!” David waved goodbye and then climbed into his car, closing his umbrella and throwing it into the passenger seat. One of the downsides of visiting Heather’s farm was that he had to drive for a whole hour to get there. Normally, David didn’t mind too much, but today, it had been raining the entire drive here and would probably be raining the entire way back.

Schitt’s Creek and the surrounding farms weren’t exactly given priority when it came to road maintenance, so David would frequently have to dodge potholes and cracks, which the rain made even more difficult. David sighed and started the drive back, making sure to put on some Mariah to make his hour of suffering a little better.

David was about halfway home before he remembered he had a husband he could bother. Patrick was working at the store today, but maybe he could convince him to keep him company for a little bit.

He speed-dialed Patrick, put his phone on speaker, and threw it into the passenger seat.

Patrick picked up on the first ring. “David? Is everything okay?”

“Hello, love of my life.” David cheerfully answered.

“What did you do.” Patrick’s voice was unnecessarily suspicious.

“Um, nothing?”

“You called me the love of your life, which makes me feel like you did something. Did you say something to upset Heather?” David made a face, but then remembered Patrick couldn’t see it.

“No! Are you just going to continue making unfounded accusations?”

“No. Why did you call?” David hesitated long enough for Patrick to start noisily clearing his throat. That little shit _knew_ that annoyed him.

“Alright, fine. I may have missed you. Just a little bit.”

“David, I saw you three hours ago.”

“Okay, and? Is it really so hard to believe that I don’t like being away from my husband?

“A little bit, yeah.”

“First of all, _rude_ and uncalled for. Second, it’s raining and miserable outside, so I wanted to hear your voice to distract me.”

“Did you forget that I have a store to run? Our store to run? And that you shouldn’t be driving distracted?”

“Not that kind of distracted!!” David sighed, slightly frustrated. This wasn’t going the way he wanted it to. “Okay, I can hang up if you really don’t want to talk.”

“No, don’t.”

“Why not?” challenged David, even though he’d been the one trying to keep Patrick on the phone.

“I might have missed you too,” Patrick admitted. David felt himself melt. He never thought he’d be loved like this. Where someone would miss his presence after just a few hours. As touched as he was, there was no way he was going to let this go without teasing Patrick first.

“Did you forget you saw me just three hours ago?”

“Wow, okay. I’m missing you a little less now,” Patrick grumbled.

David laughed and asked, “Okay, so what’s been going on at the store today?”

“Oh my god, David, it’s been awful. Gwen came in to buy lube, and Bob walked in right as she was checking out.” David had never found out who exactly Gwen was, and at this point he was too afraid to ask. He’d been in Schitt’s Creek for half a decade, and asked multiple people multiple times who the fuck Gwen was, but they just laughed and assumed he was joking. Patrick might know about David’s lack of knowledge, but he’s never brought it up so David isn’t going to either.

“Ew, that does sound awful.”

“You have no idea. Bob started crying and asking her to take him back, she started yelling at him about how he was an awful fuck, and then Roland walked in to try to ‘diffuse the situation’. He did not. He just made everything worse.”

David resisted the urge to bury his face in his hands in horror. “I’m so glad I wasn’t there today.”

“It went on for almost thirty minutes, David. _Thirty minutes_. By the end, there was a crowd inside our store, which you’d think would be a good thing, but nope! No one bought a single thing, they just stood there, taking sides.”

“Oh my _god_. How did you get them to leave?”

“Um.” Patrick hesitated, so David knew he was hiding something.

“Patrick. What did you do?” David demanded an answer, enunciating every syllable.

“Okay, so do you remember that disgusting sample cologne Ronnie brought in for us to sell at the store?” David did remember that day. It was during one of the more tense periods in the Ronnie/Patrick feud that had been terrorizing Schitt’s Creek for the past few years. Patrick (although he refused to admit it to this day) had done something to one of Ronnie’s plants, so she’d brought in a cologne for him to ‘try out’, and sprayed it on his shirt. It was the most disgusting thing David had ever smelled in his life;

David had really thought there was going to be a fist-fight between them that day. And no matter what Patrick said, he was _not_ going to win that. But, regardless, Patrick had promised he’d thrown it far, far away from their store. After David had made him burn the shirt and take ten showers.

“Unfortunately, I do remember that repulsive cologne. Patrick, what did you _do_?” David repeated.

“You can’t get mad.” David would have thrown his hands up in the air if he hadn’t been driving.

“What do you _mean_ , what the fuck did you do to our baby??” David practically screeched.

“So I’d been holding onto the bottle to get back- just in case I ever needed it, in a leak-proof tupperware container in the back. I got it out, opened the lid, and just placed it on the counter, and everyone finally left.” Patrick sounded apologetic, but he also didn’t at the same time. David was going to kill his husband. He hadn’t expected to become a widower this early into their marriage, but some lines were not to be crossed.

He growled out, “You’re dead, Patrick. I’m not even joking.”

“David, I promise the smell will be gone by the time you get back. Or... at least by tomorrow. I’m airing out the store right now.” Patrick paused for a moment and then said, “I can see the vein in your eye twitching, stop that. Everything is fine.” David snuck a quick glance in his rearview mirror, and was annoyed to see that Patrick was right.

“My skin is perfectly smooth and does not have any visible veins, so I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” David replied haughtily.

“Mhm. I’m sure.” They both sat in silence for a moment. “Are you almost here yet?” Patrick asked hopefully.

David rolled his eyes, but smiled. “Patrick, it’s been like five minutes. I’m still at least twenty minutes away.” The rain was coming down even harder, so he turned his wiper speed up to the fastest setting. “I can’t believe you’re literally driving customers out of the store. That’s just bad business practice.”

“Oh that reminds me, I was thinking about holding a wine tasting event!”

David snorted. “Mm, so we’re drumming up business by giving away inventory?”

“No, we’re drumming up business by opening up six or seven bottles, giving people samples, and if they like it, they’ll buy more. It’s a common business model, David.”

“Sounds fake.”

Patrick sighed. “Okay, look at it this way. If we get people tipsy, they’ll make poor life choices and buy more stuff.” David’s lip curled up into a smirk.

“So you’re telling me you’re okay with getting people drunk and taking advantage of them?” David asked innocently. He could faintly hear Patrick sputtering and bit his lips together to suppress a snicker.

“That’s, no that’s-, David! That’s not what I was saying at all!” David spent the next few minutes listening to his husband rant about how his idea was perfectly ethical and how David was turning it into something that it was not.

He was about to chime in with a witty retort that would crush Patrick’s argument when he noticed a blurry pair of headlights in the distance. There weren’t many people who took this route, so it was unusual to see other vehicles on the road.

A few seconds later, he could see that the headlights belonged to a truck that was going far too fast to be safe, even if it wasn’t raining.

David breathed out, “What the fuck?” as he got even closer and realized that the truck was driving in the wrong lane, which was the same lane he was in. He swerved as hard he could, white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel, but unfortunately, it was too late.

David interrupted Patrick worriedly asking what was wrong with a rushed, choked out, “I’m sorry, I love you, Pa-” before the truck crashed into the side of his car. The last thing he heard was metal crumpling and Patrick screaming his name, before he hit his head and everything went black.

* * *

As soon as Stevie pulled into the parking lot, Patrick was out of the car. He ran into the hospital, with Stevie hot on his heels. Patrick frantically looked around before he spotted the reception desk and made a beeline towards it.

Patrick’s brain was running a constant loop of, ‘David, David, David’, but he managed to restrain his panic enough to get out, “I’m here for David Rose. I’m his husband, Patrick Brewer. He was in a car accident, where is he?” Patrick couldn’t even focus enough on the receptionist to understand anything more than the room number, but by then, Stevie had caught up with him, and was gently holding onto his arm to lead him in what was hopefully the right direction. He had to get to David. He’d spent the past few hours focused on nothing but that.

Patrick had been screaming at his phone, tears streaming down his face, screaming for David to wake up for what felt like hours but was probably less than a minute, before Stevie, Ronnie, and Jocelyn had rushed into his store from the Cafe. The three of them had managed to calm down Patrick’s hysterics enough to get David’s approximate location out of him, and then called the police.

Ronnie had stayed on the phone with the police, giving them directions since she was familiar with the country back roads, while Joceyln closed up the store. Stevie had run to her apartment to grab her car, while Patrick had sat down on the ground uselessly with his head in his hands, trying not to hyperventilate, but failing.

He had been so caught up in his own head, that he hadn’t realized that Ronnie had taken a seat on the steps next to him, until she gently tapped his shoulders. He turned to look at her in surprise, and saw that she was still on the phone.

She had looked at him with the softest expression he’d ever seen on her face and gently said, “They found David and he’s still breathing. He’s alive. Hold onto that.” That’s what Patrick had been doing for the past few hours it had taken to get to the hospital. The rain had made many of the roads impossible to get through, and traffic had been hell getting to the city. Why had he let David drive today?

Now that Patrick was finally at the hospital, he was running out of steam, dark thoughts taking over his brain. David was alive when the police had found him, but that didn’t mean he’d stay that way. What if he died of his injuries in transit? What if Patrick got into his room and was asked to identify the body? What if he never got to hear his husband’s voice again or tell him he loved him back?

Patrick was brought back to the real world with a nudge from Stevie. He looked up to see a door labeled with room number David was supposed to be in. Before he could open it, a doctor came out and closed the door behind him.

He looked up, with kind eyes and a light smile on his face. That was good news, right? Hopefully that meant that he wouldn’t be telling Patrick that he was a widower.

“Hello, I’m Dr. Ferine. Family of David Rose?”

“Yes, I’m his husband, Patrick. How is he??” Stevie had grabbed Patrick’s hand and was squeezing it hard enough to cut off his circulation, but the pain grounded him enough to be able to focus on someone else for the first time in a while.

“Your husband was incredibly lucky, Patrick. His car was hit by a truck at a very high speed. He managed to swerve just enough to avoid a head-on collision, which saved his life.” The doctor paused, letting Patrick absorb the news for a minute.

A truck. His husband was hit by a truck. That wasn’t lucky. Patrick’s brain was just static. That was better than the previous constant images of his husband’s dead body, though.

Patrick unconsciously stepped forward, as if to get inside David’s room, but the doctor stepped in front of him. Stevie gripped his hand even tighter.

“Son, I know you’re anxious to see your husband, but there’s a few more things we have to go over first.” Patrick blankly stared at the doctor, and did his best to listen as he rattled off all David’s injuries. The mention of broken bones brought back boyhood memories of when Patrick had climbed up the staircase banister and jumped off, breaking his leg. His parents had been home, and had rushed over when they heard him crying, calmed him down, and taken him to the hospital. Patrick remembered the fear, but he also remembered feeling safe and loved, afterwards. What must David have felt like, all alone in his car, convinced he was going to die?

“Patrick?” Stevie’s voice startled him out of his thoughts. “The doctor said we can go inside now. And see David.” Patrick nodded, but didn’t move. Stevie gently nudged him, and when that didn’t work, used her grip on his hand to pull him forward towards the now open door.

“Are you really just going to stand out there _all_ day, Patrick?” Patrick’s head shot up at that familiar voice and he ran into the room.

David was awake and attempting to glare at him. He wasn’t very successful, with his brow crinkled in pain and the smile nudging at his lips. Patrick catalogued each tube, each piece of gauze, and every butterfly bandage attached to David. His eyes kept getting caught on the many, many bruises that littered his husband’s body until they finally made it to his face. One of his eyes was swollen, and there was what looked like a very painful bruise on his cheekbone, but neither of those took away from the fact that he was the most beautiful thing Patrick had ever seen.

“Patrick?” David’s smile had slowly faded, the longer Patrick had just stared at him. “Do I really look _that_ ugly?”

Patrick burst out sobbing, all the terror and anguish and pain of the day just flowing out of him at that moment. David looked alarmed. He made to get out of the bed and twisted his arm the wrong way. His muffled yelp made Patrick run to David before his stupid husband could find another way to hurt himself. Patrick couldn’t bear to be away from him for another second.

Patrick wanted to launch himself into David’s arms, but he was so afraid to hurt him. He gently stroked his fingers over David’s unmarred cheekbone and tried to be content in the fact that his husband was both alive _and_ awake.

David clumsily held out his arms in a facsimile of a hug, ignoring the tubes coming out of one and the cast covering the other. Patrick oh-so-gently put his own arms around him and buried his face in David’s chest. He breathed in his warm, familiar scent and finally felt at home.

David tensed. Patrick quickly made to move away from him, but met resistance and froze.

“Sorry, you’re fine, just go a little easy on my ribs. They’re still really sore.” David murmured into his hair. They stayed like that for a couple minutes, silent outside of Patrick’s occasional sniffles, until there was the sound of someone clearing their throat.

“This is cute and all, but can someone tell me if I can take a seat, or if I should go so y'all can have life-reaffirming hospital sex or…” Patrick let out a wet laugh, but felt a rush of guilt for forgetting Stevie. She had been the only reason he’d made it through the last few hours.

David snorted. “I’m not going to be up for much of anything for a while. You can sit down without getting an eyeful of _this_ hot bod.” He punctuated that by weakly pointing at himself. Patrick and Stevie both cringed at that awful statement.

“I’m crushed,” Stevie deadpanned, but she still dragged a chair over next to David and took a seat. They all sat in silence, and David clumsily wiped the tears from Patrick’s face every once in a while. Patrick didn’t know why he couldn’t stop crying. David was fine. He was alive and still his snarky old self. So why was Patrick’s body still convinced he was going to lose him?

“Mm, okay, Patrick, I love you, but my arm is about to fall asleep.” Patrick reluctantly untangled himself from David and brought over another chair to sit next to him and Stevie. David reached out for his hand again, and Patrick felt a set of fresh tears well up in his eyes.

“I was so fucking scared, David. I really thought you were dead.” Patrick wiped his face, and then realized he hadn’t even asked his husband how he was. “Fuck, I’m sorry, you’re the one who got hit by a truck and I’m somehow making this about me. How are you feeling, sweetheart?”

“Like I got hit by a truck.” David deadpanned. That probably wasn’t the best question to ask when his husband was lying in a hospital bed.

Patrick nodded sympathetically. For the first time in hours, he finally felt like he could be useful. He asked, “Okay, should I call a nurse and ask someone to increase the dosage on your pain medication?”

David made a face. “No, it’s not going to help.”

“You won’t know that until you try,” Patrick reasoned.

“I’ve been in this stupid bed for three hours already so I think I know what will and won’t work.” David snapped. Patrick felt like he’d been slapped in the face. David was right. Patrick hadn’t been there for David when he needed him, so of course he didn’t know anything about his treatment.

“Fuck, I’m sorry Patrick, I didn’t mean to yell at you.” Patrick looked up to see David looking at him guiltily. Great, now Patrick was making his bedridden husband feel worse. What was wrong with him? Why couldn’t he do anything right? “It’s just been… a really shitty day, to say the least.”

Patrick gave him a soft, sad smile. He gently grabbed David’s hand, and his husband squeezed back reassuringly. Patrick looked into his eyes, and saw that David was struggling to keep them open.

“Honey, you don’t have to stay awake for us. You can rest.” Patrick gently slid his hand over David’s eyes, closing them, and he didn’t resist. “I promise you’re safe, now.”

David’s breathing evened out, and soon, the room was filled with the sound of his soft snores.

Stevie suddenly snorted. Patrick looked up at her sharply, and she said, “I’m sorry, I’m just remembering all the times that David insisted he doesn’t snore, because it’s undignified.” Patrick suppressed his own giggle. He smiled at Stevie, and then looked back at his sleeping husband. They were all going to be okay.


	2. Chapter 2

David was furious. He’d woken up at 1 PM, and freaked out. He was confused about how he could have missed his alarm and was worried about leaving the Apothecary closed. Then, he saw a note on his dresser from Patrick. Patrick had _turned off_ his alarm and gone to the Apothecary in his place, because he thought that David ‘needed the rest’. The accident had been months ago, and Patrick was still treating him like he was made of glass.

The first few days out of the hospital had been absolute hell. David had been in a ridiculous amount of pain, and Patrick had stretched himself far too thin trying to take care of both him and the store. David could see Patrick falling apart, but hadn’t been able to do anything about it, and the helplessness he felt had made him snappish, curt, and just plain mean. But Patrick never snapped back. He just internalized each and every one of David’s barbs and continued taking care of him. It had been awful. David had been terrified Patrick would reach his breaking point and eventually leave him, after seeing him for who he really was.

Stevie had been the one to set them both straight. She had called Alexis, who flew back in, and spent a month living at the motel and looking after the store, allowing Patrick to focus on taking care of David. On the days where David had been his meanest, worst self, Stevie had kicked Patrick out of their house and sat with him, completely unfazed by everything he threw at her. In fact, she had zero problem snapping back at him, which had been refreshing after almost a week of watching Patrick acquiesce to his every whim.

The whole town had chipped in. Jocelyn helped Alexis with the store, Ronnie installed a ramp to make their cottage more wheelchair friendly, and Tywla regularly delivered meals to their house. But Stevie had been his rock. Without her, David genuinely wasn’t sure that his marriage would have survived the accident. He’d told her that, and she’d just punched him and called him a dumbass.

The point was, they’d survived the worst, and David was feeling much better now. So, he didn’t understand why Patrick was still so determined to baby him. David had insisted on making weekly visits to the store, ever since he could sit up for more than an hour on his wheelchair. A couple weeks ago, he’d upped the frequency of those visits to every other day, since his doctor said his leg was healing well. Patrick hadn’t liked that. He’d made it clear that he hadn’t liked that, but he’d never done anything to actively stop David from going at all until this day.

Wait a second. Last night, David had complained about how sore he was, for longer than he usually did. His pain levels had been higher than normal, because of how active he’d been at the store the day before. That might be the reason why Patrick thought it was justified to not let him go to the store. Regardless, it was still completely not okay for Patrick to make decisions for David without his input.

David sat on his bed angrily, eating popcorn and watching a Sandra Bullock movie, waiting for Patrick to get home so that he could confront him.

Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait too long. Not even halfway through the movie, David heard the front door open. He quickly turned off the TV and hid the popcorn under the blanket. He crossed his arms and waited until Patrick walked in.

David opened his mouth to yell at Patrick, but then saw his face. “Patrick?” he asked worriedly, anger completely forgotten, “What happened?”

Patrick forced a smile on his face. “Hey, David! Nothing happened, what do you mean?”

“You look horrible.” It was true. Patrick’s eyes were rimmed with red and his nose looked painfully scratched up.

“Thanks, that’s exactly what every guy wants to hear from his husband,” Patrick replied. He sighed and sat down next to David, who looked at him with his eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer. He gave in, “I’m fine, I’m just a little worried about my mom.”

David sat up straight. “What happened to your mother??”

“It wasn’t that big of a deal, she just fell and broke her leg while she was gardening, so I don’t know why I’m so stressed out over it.” David thought it was obvious. Marcy Brewer was the kindest woman David had met in her entire life. He couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to her, and he hadn’t even been raised by her.

“Well, how is she? What kind of break? Should we go visit her?” David asked, rapid-fire.

Patrick answered, “She’s fine, it was a completely clean break, so she doesn’t even need surgery, like you did. We’re _not_ going to be visiting her, because you need to be resting. Speak of which, how’s your pain, today?” Wait. So Patrick wasn’t going to be visiting her because of _David_?

“I’m at a three, I took my meds earlier, but Patrick. You have to go see her!”

Patrick gritted his teeth together. “No, David, I don’t. She’s going to be fine, and I have to take care of you.”

“There’s nothing to take care of! I can get around on my own now, and I can do my PT exercises without you. Go see your mom.”

“I’m not leaving you, David!” Patrick exploded, “Why are you being such an ass about this when she’s not even your own mother?” David reared his head back at the venom in Patrick’s voice.

“Wow,” He said flatly. “I’m incredibly sorry for being an ass by telling you to go see your injured mother, who I apparently have no say over, since she’s _just_ my mother-in-law.”

“David-”

“I’m calling Stevie to come get me. Don’t wait up.”

“David, stop being unreasonable.” Patrick protested, “I’m sorry for what I said, but you can’t just go sleep at Stevie’s.”

“Mm, I think I can do whatever I want.” David replied, and then got ready to pull himself into the wheelchair. He was still a little wobbly, but glared at Patrick when he tried to help. “ _Don’t_. I don’t need you. I can do this myself.” It took him a minute, but David managed to get himself into the chair. The cast on his arm had come off a week ago, making it _much_ easier to do everyday things, even though he still wasn’t supposed to use that arm as often. David shot a triumphant look at Patrick, and noticed that his eyes were filled with tears. Oh no.

“Patrick-”

Patrick interrupted, “I’m _fine_ , David, just go to Stevie’s like you want to.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand and sniffled. “It’s not like you need me.” David put his head in his hands. He was in pain, very under-stimulated and now his husband was crying because of him. David was having a great day so far.

“Can we just... please apologize and start over? Maybe we can deal with whatever this is tomorrow?” David asked, looking at Patrick with a weary expression on his face. Patrick hesitated, but then nodded. David rolled his chair back to the bed, and let Patrick help him back up onto it. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd finally get to the bottom of whatever the fuck was going on with Patrick, and things would be better. 

* * *

David woke up to the sound of his alarm abruptly turning off.

“Hello?” He asked, still half asleep. “What the fuck are you doing?” Patrick looked at him guiltily, like a kid whose hand had been caught in the candy jar.

“Um, I’m turning off your alarm?”

“Why.”

“Because you look like you need more sleep?” Patrick replied hesitantly.

“Newsflash: I always need more sleep. That doesn’t mean you get to turn my alarm off.” David replied, now fully awake and thoroughly pissed off. He had really hoped yesterday was a fluke, and that Patrick would start being the rational one, again.

“David, it’s not that big of a deal-” Patrick tried to explain, but David cut him off.

“No, it is, Patrick. It is a big deal. You know firsthand how little control I’ve had about what happens to me for months, and now that I’m finally getting some back, you’re taking it away?”

Patrick looked up at David through his eyelashes, “I just don’t want you to overextend yourself, David, especially since you’re finally starting to get better.”

“I know my limits! Trust me, the past two months have gotten me _extremely_ well-acquainted with my limits, and it’s very belittling of you to treat me as if I’m a child and don’t know them.”

Patrick looked down at his hands and didn’t say anything. “Can you _please_ just tell me what’s wrong?” David pleaded.

Patrick squeezed his arms around himself. He kept his head down, staring at the ground and said, “I’m just… I’m still so terrified that I’m going to lose you.” Oh, Patrick.

David reached for Patrick’s hand. “Sweetheart, I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.”

“But you almost did.” Patrick looked up and David saw tears in his eyes. “You almost left me, David, for good.”

“I _didn’t_.” David insisted. “Not even close. Do you know how much worse things could have been? My car was hit by a _truck_ , Patrick. Most people don’t walk away from that so easily. I had minor surgeries, and things are going to suck for a while, but I’m going to be fine. You’re making it sound so much worse than it was, like I was just left bleeding out on the side of the road for hours.” Yikes, that had sounded a _lot_ more reassuring in David’s head.

Patrick pulled his hand away and squeezed his eyes shut. “ _Don’t_ , David. Don’t say shit like that to me.” Okay, He’d fucked up. Patrick never cursed.

“Okay, I’m not wording this right. What I’m trying to say is that I promise not going to be leaving you any-”

“You can’t promise me that, David!” Patrick yelled. “You can’t promise that something like this won’t happen again!” He pressed his fist to his temple and took a deep breath. “I don’t want to have this conversation.” Patrick moved to walk away, but David grabbed his arm.

“Hey, no, I think it’s important that we do have it.” David said, annoying himself by how much he sounded like his husband. God, he really could not deal with being the sane, rational one for much longer.

Patrick looked at David, and must have seen something in his eyes, because he sat back down on their bed.

David took a deep breath. He was going to get it right this time. “Okay, so. I think you’ve been carrying a lot of pain and hurt inside of you, sweetheart.”

Patrick looked up at that and wrinkled his nose. “No, _you’re_ the one who’s been in pain. Nothing I’m feeling is comparable to that.”

David shook his head almost violently. “Are you trying to tell me that your mental health isn’t important?”

“You know that’s not what I meant.”

David sighed and pulled Patrick closer to him so he could look him in the eye. “Listen to me. You’ve spent the past couple of months doing nothing but taking care of me, and somehow, inexplicably, blaming yourself for what happened.”

Patrick opened his mouth to protest but David beat him to it. “Do you think I haven’t noticed all the brooding and self-destructive behavior? You’re punishing yourself for something that had absolutely nothing to do with you.”

“I was the one on the phone with you that day,” Patrick said quietly. “Maybe if I’d made you hang up, you would have noticed the truck sooner. If I hadn’t complained about how long you were taking, maybe you would have gone slower and not come across the truck at all.”

“Maybe if Heather hadn’t fed me so many of her goat cheese sandwiches, my reflexes would have been faster and I wouldn’t have hit the truck at all.”

“David, that’s ridiculous.”

“That’s exactly my point!” Was he really going to have to spell it out? “Maybe if I had been more careful, I wouldn’t have gotten hurt at all.”

“Don’t, David. The accident wasn’t your fault in the slightest.” Patrick replied.

“Don’t you see, Patrick? It wasn’t yours either. I could come up with hundreds of other little what-ifs that could have prevented it. Or even made it worse. In fact, I’m pretty sure you’re the only reason I made it through. You know what I was thinking, right before it hit me?”

“What?” Patrick asked, sounding afraid to hear his response.

“That I absolutely had to live through this or you’d kill me yourself. Maybe if you hadn’t been on the phone with me, I wouldn’t have had that motivation of ‘oh my god, I can’t let my husband listen to me die’ and I wouldn’t have made it out alive at all,” David replied softly.

“Stop.” Patrick said, squeezing his eyes shut. “Please stop it, David.” David could see that Patrick was reaching his breaking point, so he did.

The two of them sat on their bed in silence.

“Have you considered therapy, Patrick?” David asked, after a while. “Couples therapy, or even regular therapy?”

Patrick’s face went white. “Do you think we need couples therapy? Am I that awful at this?”

David resisted the urge to roll his eyes, because he knew Patrick would take it the wrong way. “Oh my god, no! I just think that you have some issues you need to work through. You’ve spent your entire life locking up your emotions in a box, but some things are just too big to lock up like that.”

David looked closer at his husband, taking in his bloodshot eyes and the huge bags underneath them. He wrapped his arms around Patrick. His husband tensed for a moment, but eventually relaxed into him. “You’ve spent the past few months taking care of me, but you’ve been neglecting taking care of yourself.” David said, stroking Patrick’s hair.

“I’m not the one who’s hurt,” Patrick muttered, but David could see it was half-hearted.

“Sure, but you’ve been the one dealing with the aftermath.” David pointed out. “And I know for a fact that I’m not easy to deal with on a regular day, let alone when I’m cranky and in pain. I’m sorry, Patrick. I’m sorry that I’ve been so caught up in my own issues that I hadn’t noticed how much you were hurting.”

Patrick looked like he was going to protest, so David hugged him even tighter. “No, shut up. It’s my turn to take care of you.” Now he just looked amused. It was nice to see that look on his face again, after long.

“You know, now that you mention it, I could use a back massage.”

“Then a back massage, it is!” David announced and then pushed Patrick over onto his stomach.

“What, David, no, I was joking. You’ll hurt yourself.”

“Actually, I’m supposed to be exercising this arm regularly, so by letting me give you a back massage, you’ll actually be helping me.”

“Well, in that case, I _guess_ you can.” David pursed his lips, suppressing a smile at his cheekiness. 

David had just started getting into the massage, when Patrick’s voice interrupted him. “Do you really think therapy would help?”

David bit his lip, trying to think of an answer that wouldn’t stress Patrick out more. “I could give you Shirley’s number and you could see for yourself? She’s the only reason I’m not having panic attacks the second I get into a car.”

Patrick didn’t say anything back, so David resumed the massage. This was going much better than the first time he’d suggested therapy, a couple weeks after the accident. Patrick had completely brushed David off and told him to focus on himself and not worry about him. 

“I’ve been having nightmares,” Patrick said in a small voice. “For months, now. Do you think that therapy would help me with that?” David was glad Patrick was on his stomach and couldn’t see his face. How much had he been dealing with, alone? David had honestly thought that Alexis and Stevie’s help had taken most of the load off of Patrick’s shoulders. He couldn’t believe he was just now realizing just how much Patrick had been suffering emotionally. Outside of the day of the accident, Patrick hadn’t cried or said much of anything about how he was feeling, far too focused on making sure David was okay. But David still should have known, instead of being an awful, oblivious husband. 

“What kind of nightmares?” David asked automatically, trying to shake off his thoughts, but then he saw the expression on Patrick’s face. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that if you don’t want to. But yeah, I think it could. It really can’t hurt to try. I can attest that Shirley is a wonderful therapist, and won't take you on as a patient and then date you so she can dig up dirt on your mother and publish it in the tabloids.” Unlike a certain _someone_.

“Jesus Christ, David, that’s an incredibly low bar. And most definitely also illegal.” Patrick said, in that tone that he always used when they were talking about the shitty things that had happened in David’s past. Right, normal people couldn’t usually relate to his experiences, so he really needed to stop bringing them up. Shut _up,_ David.

“The point is, she’s great, you’ll probably love her, and if you don’t, we can find you someone else. Not to be pushy, but I really think it would benefit you. Like a lot. A _lot_ , a lot.”

“ _Okay_ , David, I think I get it. I might go see her, but I wanna think about it a little more, first.” Patrick replied. David dropped the topic for now, because this was far more than he had expected, anyway.

“Okay, how much longer is this massage going to be? My arms are tired,” David groaned and flopped over. 

“You can stop whenever, you’re the one who decided to do it.”

“Cause you asked!” David shot back.

“It was a joke!” Patrick protested.

“Yeah, but you did secretly want it. Look at how much happier you look.” 

Patrick sat up and stretched. “I do feel a lot less tense, so thank you, David. Are you still coming to the store?”

“Are you going to try to stop me, again?” David asked, raising an eyebrow to show Patrick what exactly he thought of that idea.

“No.”

“Then yes.”

“Would it have been a no if I had said yes?” Patrick wondered out loud.

“No, it would have been me yelling at you for ten minutes until you gave it.” David replied flatly.

“That’s fair.” Patrick kissed his forehead and walked into the bathroom.

David slumped over onto the bed. Soon, he’d go to his store and fix whatever incorrect choices Patrick had made in his absence. When they got back home, he’d try to convince Patrick to make at least a day trip within the next couple of days to reassure himself that his mom was okay. David could easily stay home alone, and would rope someone else into checking up on him if Patrick got too worried. Patrick had already said that he’d look into therapy, so that was one less thing to worry about.

Things weren’t perfect. In fact, they were far from it. But they were making progress. If this ordeal had taught David anything at all, it was patience. Time really did heal all wounds. Or at least, it helped them hurt less like a bitch. He was going to be okay, and in time, Patrick would be, too. David would make sure of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not very happy with the ending, so I might go back and add a coda at some point. I just got sick of staring at this in my drafts. 
> 
> I'd love any feedback!


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